Bed of Roses
by emeralddusk
Summary: How did life change so much? The only salvation could be a Bed of Roses.


_**New Life: Chapter One**_

Bed or Roses

Victorious

The raw, red sun arose above the hills and palm trees of Los Angeles. The light shined through the large, open windows of the Vega house, stinging Victoria's weak, bloodshot, trembling eyes and her dear old piano. Pulling herself up into a seated position, the young woman stared down at the keys, trying to shut out the blinding rays of a sun risen too early.

_Sitting here wasted and wounded..._

_At this old piano._

_Trying hard to capture the moment..._

_This morning, I don't know._

Old, wilted, dead roses lined the entire instrument alongside the smell of beer and the sense of wasted time gone by. Staring at the blank sheet music page before her, Tori aligned her fingers over the keys she once loved and danced her fingers across. They no longer had meaning, even though she fought that horrid thought. The best times couldn't be over. This could not be the time when things change...Or maybe that time had already come long ago.

_'Cause a bottle of vodka's still lodged in my head_  
_And some man gave me nightmares;_  
_Think that he's still in my bed_

It was all so horrible to think about; she was so drunk she actually let herself think she had company in her empty house. The fact that she could have offered her house to anyone after what had happened...  
_As I dream about movies_  
_They won't make of me when I'm dead_

_I'm a sob story; that's it. No poetry, no work of art. Just some kid who lost herself...who has nothing to show of it all. I fucked up. No one'll remember me when I die._

The dark rings of distilled blood staining her face around her eyes, her dry, aching mouth, her cracked, slit lips, and her wild, unkempt hair; they were all a reminder of how far she'd fallen. There was no running away from it. There was no waking up from this nightmare, because it's life now. Her swollen, blurred eyes draining tears down her tender, gray-hued cheeks, Victoria caught sight of a single drop hitting her keys. _I guess I can still cry...I cry every day._ Somewhere in the old house; the house that once held beauty, promise, and the genesis of brand new dreams, there were pictures. Maybe they were together, maybe they were scattered out throughout the mess and rubble. There were pictures of them; her long, red hair and loving, childlike eyes and smile. His long, thick, dark hair beside her long, ravenblack locks and pale makeup. His kind eyes and long, two strand twists. Finally, her long, brunette hair and smile that so resembled her sister's. Her name is Trina...Not sure what her last name is anymore. They old framed photographs were coated with dust and cob webs, having been left alone for years, maybe close to a decade.

_With an ironclad fist, I wake up..._  
_French kiss the morning_  
_While some marching band keeps its own beat in my head_  
_While we're talking_  
_About all of the things that I long to believe_  
_About love, the truth_

_Hollywood Arts was beautiful; living art. There was love, hope, dreams, friendship, family, people to help one another. It was a dream drenched in comfort and warmth. Why'd all that go away? Why'd we have to grow up? What the hell am I even talking about? I'm only nineteen...it's not supposed to be like this. I'm too young...but what's that worth? The sun never really seems to rise on my life anymore. I don't believe in love...Truth is, I'm living a nightmare, and there's no fixing that. I wish I had them beside me; I'd keep them forever..._

_I wanna lay you down in a bed of roses_  
_For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails_

Their numbers and email addresses long since gone, the Hollywood Arts gang was nothing more than a memory. Maybe they went on, without Tori. Maybe they forgot each other, lived their dreams, or just walked away to something else.

_Well I'm so far away_  
_Each step that I take's on my way home_  
_A king's ransom in dimes;_

_I'd give each night_  
_To see through this payphone_  
_Still I run out of time_  
_Or it's hard to get through_  
_Till the bird on the wire flies me back to you_  
_I just close my eyes and whisper,_  
_Baby blind love is true_

_ And I'm alone. I can't change that; I can't get away from that. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. I'm...I'm sorry. And they'd take me back...but that's not happening. So I create my friends again...out of memories, and I hold them tight. Especially you. You're like a little kitten._

_Now as you close your eyes..._  
_Know I'll be thinking about you._

_ I tuck my beloved ones in tightly under their warm sheets, stroke the hair out of their faces, kiss their foreheads, and let them go to sleep knowing I love them._  
_While my mistress she calls me..._  
_To stand in her spotlight again_  
_Tonight, I won't be alone_  
_But you know that don't mean I'm not lonely_

One more tear drop fell. This time, it stained an old photograph; a photograph of friends. Of love. It meant something. Something wonderful. When was the photo taken?

_I've got nothing to prove_  
_For it's you that I'd die to defend..._

_I wanna lay you down in a bed of roses_  
_For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails_

_And lay you down_

_ Goodnight, my angels. Thanks for making my life wonderful...even just for a little while. Goodnight, my friends. _Then, the sun set over the hills, and the sky turned black. And the roses fell from the sky like tear drops falling from weathered eyes.


End file.
